


Between Shadow and Soul

by Cibeeeee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dancing, Drawing, Fluff, M/M, Poetry, Valentine's Day Fluff, lots and lots of pet names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-10-08 10:52:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10385007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibeeeee
Summary: Hanzo and McCree spends a slow and easy Valentine's Day  together.A day in five chapter: Prologue, Morning (Dancing), Midday (Painting), Evening (Poetry), and Moonrise (Music)





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made it so it's now multi chapter, I think I like it better this way, easier on the eyes

Hanzo had the sweetest sweet tooth McCree has ever seen. It was such a surprise for him to find out after few months of dating. McCree found a hoard of sweets in one of Hanzo’s drawls, even some stray candy wrappers beside Hanzo’s pillow, to which Hanzo insisted he just forgot about them, though McCree was pretty sure it was for Hanzo to have three a.m., half-asleep snacks. And the bags of marshmallows in the communal kitchen, used for hot chocolates that no one ever gets to use because there was never enough? Turns out that it was Hanzo eating them without anyone knowing.

 

This was just one of the things that McCree never expected from Hanzo yet found so endearing – and Hanzo hated it when McCree says things like this, despite McCree’s insistence that he was being sincere. Once McCree remarked that Hanzo had the sweetest smile he had ever had the pleasure to see, it must be all the sweets Hanzo loved to eat – and Hanzo actually got up and left in the middle of lunch.

 

When McCree went into town for supply run, he usually would swing by the sweets sections of the store for Hanzo. He made his usual choice, and some new stuff he thought Hanzo would like, and then he realized the abnormal amount of pink covering the section.

 

“It seems like it’s the time of the year again,” Satya mused. “Are you two doing anything?”

 

McCree didn’t reply, he just stared at the chocolates.

 

“You forgot,” Satya said slowly.

 

“I forgot,” McCree echoed, and groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Mother fucker, our first Valentine’s together, and I forgot.”

 

“It’s alright,” Satya comforted him unsurely. “You still have…two days.”

 

“What can I come up with in just two days?” McCree said. “Can’t just get him chocolates, I do that every fucking week!”

 

“The easiest way is to take him to a restaurant,” Satya said.

 

McCree sighed in relief, “Sweet Jesus, thank god – ”

 

“But you both have mission briefing and training that day. And restaurant would be fully booked on that day as well, most likely,” Satya grabbed a big heart shaped box and dropped it in McCree’s basket. “Chocolate is the fastest choice now, unless you have other ideas of gifts in mind.”

 

“Nothing,” McCree took out the heart shape box and looked at it gloomily.

 

“Hanzo would like chocolate,” Satya reassured.

 

“He would, but I want to give him more.”

 

“Ah, well,” Satya turned and look at the other products. “How do you feel about baking? It is quite sweet, I would say, to make something yourself.”

 

McCree was a good cook. He could make a mean meal if he wants to. Even if he only has a few ingredients to use, he could whip it into something good. Baking was another thing entirely – somehow it was just a skill he never got the hang of. The things McCree baked never came out horrible, just never really _good_ either.  

 

“I’m not an expert,” McCree admitted. “I could make him a fancy dinner…although I make him fancy dinner all the time…”

 

“I think whatever you do, Hanzo would appreciate it,” Satya said. “Hanzo may not even celebrate Valentine’s.”

 

Whether or not Hanzo celebrated it didn’t really matter, Jesse _wanted_ to do something, even more now that he had forgotten it in the first place.

 

“Fuck it,” McCree put the minimum effort present back to the shelf. “I’m gonna bake a fucking cake for him, where’s the baking section?”

 

“You need to know what you are making first, McCree.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

After standing in the middle of the chocolate section, looking for dessert recipes and annoying other customers that were trying to shop for Valentine’s, McCree decided that he was going to make strawberry shortcakes.

 

“This look very sweet,” murmured Satya as she looked at McCree as he piled in boxes of strawberries into his cart.

 

McCree fixed a bewildered look towards her. “Are you kidding? This can’t even compare to what he eats on a regular base.”

 

Satya was going to argue, but then she remembered witnessing Hanzo eat meringue topped with chocolate sauce like it wasn’t a diabetes in disguise, and decided maybe McCree knew what was best. Besides, she didn’t like anything that was even remotely sweet, so Satya could hardly be a judge for this type of decision.

 

McCree didn’t talk much on the way back. His face was fixed in a scowl ever since they were thinking of ideas for Valentine’s Day. He was angry, but Satya did not know of what.

 

After a minute of silence, McCree spoke. “I’ll do something better next year.”

 

Satya cast a glance at McCree. “Is that why you were upset?”

 

“I may be too old to celebrate this kind of thing, but I also never wanted to celebrate this kind of holiday before Hanzo too. It slipped my mind and now it’s just gonna be a regular day with a fancier dessert for Hanzo when I could have done more.”

 

Fingers clenching and unclenching. Satya did not know what to say. “You forgot,” she finally said, slowly, never sure how to comfort people. “Like you said, you do not celebrate this day before, it is natural that it slipped your mind. You do not need to be so hard on yourself.”

 

Heaving a sigh out of him like he had stopped breathing, McCree’s body sagged. “There’s really no point of thinking what could have been done, is there?”

 

“Of course there is, you just need to do it next year. The first year doesn’t have to be the best.”

 

McCree beamed at the road. He never looks away when he drives. “I can just up my game every year, right?”

 

“Until you run out of cheesy, romantic surprises for Hanzo.”

 

This time McCree actually burst out laughing. “Like that’ll ever happen!”

 


	2. Morning

Valentine’s Day came with a loud bang.

 

McCree was woken up, rudely, he thought, by the sounds of things clattering to the ground. He groaned, and buried his face back to his pillow.

 

“Hanzo,” he whined, sweetly. “Would you tell them to stop screwing around in the rec room and that there are people living next to it?”

 

There was no answer, and McCree tiredly lifted his face up to where Hanzo should be every morning, sitting by the table and reading on his tablet, waiting for Jesse to join him for breakfast.

 

Hanzo wasn’t there, and though it wasn’t uncommon for him to leave first recently, Hanzo still liked to wait for Jesse to wake up so he could pinch his nose and say: “you should get up now.”

 

And as Jesse stared at the date on his phone he thought that at least today they should share a morning together. It was still six in the morning, Hanzo shouldn’t even have left the room already.

 

Jesse wrapped his serape around his shoulder. The cold still lingered in the room. Athena turns the heating off every night after agents fall asleep to conserve power, and that resulted in a very cold McCree and in turn, not a very chirpy one.

 

He shuffled into the bathroom half hoping to maybe find Hanzo there, but found only an even colder room. He splashed some water on his face and rinsed his mouth. The banging continued from the rec room, now accompanied by objects scraping across the floor.

 

“Jesus Christ,” McCree murmured under his breath, and shouted the same words later as he shuffled into the rec room. “What in the world are you people doing – ”

 

Hanzo and Hana’s startled face stared back at him as they stop mid-push of a huge professional lighting equipment. Hana resumed her path of moving the light without warning, which caused Hanzo to stumble a little backward.

 

“Did we wake you?” Hana said not so guiltily.

 

“Yes, you did,” McCree grumbled. “What are you two doing? Looks like you’re trying to move Hana’s room in here.”

 

“Practically,” she replied. “I have a stream to do today and I need all my stuff in here. Hanzo is helping me since he’s the only one awake at six in the morning.”

 

“For fuck’s sake,” McCree took three long strides and fitted himself against Hanzo. Ignoring Hana’s cry of “Hey! Watch my stuff!” Jesse gave Hanzo a kiss on the temple.

 

“There,” McCree moved back to his position of leaning on Hanzo’s side. “A morning kiss, let’s just pretend that’s the first thing we did on Valentine ’s Day.”

 

“Wow, seriously?” Hana rolled her eyes. “Can we just move this thing first already? We’re almost done anyway.”

 

Hanzo and Hana moved quickly to finish her setup, and the women retreated back to her room for a few hours of sleep before the stream. Hanzo slid the door shut after her and turned to look at McCree.

 

“Jesse,” Hanzo said. His eyes soft. “I did not think you would care so much of this holiday.”

 

McCree grumbled from his spot on the couch, knees drawn to his chest as he tried to stay awake. “What was that, honey?”

 

Hanzo shook his head. “Nothing.” He walked past McCree to one of the stereos hooked up to the tablet of the rec room. He turned on the power and asked, “Are you very tired?”

 

“Shoot, reckon I could fall right back to sleep if you come sit with me…” McCree’s voice trailed off as soft piano music floated from the speakers, a little too loud at first. Hanzo turned the volume down until it was only a pleasant, barely there drone. The archer swayed a bit with the music and extended his hand to McCree. “… Honey?”

 

“Come,” Hanzo crooned, and McCree might as well have melted right then and there. He took Hanzo’s hand and groaned when his bones popped. McCree’s legs had fallen asleep so he stumbled a little getting up. Hanzo laughed and wrapped his arms around Jesse’s waist, squeezing gently while holding him up.

 

“Honey?” McCree questioned again. Hanzo led McCree to the middle of the room, mindful of all the equipment scatter around. It left them with little to no space, but Hanzo seemed happy to just have McCree in his arms.

 

It clicked, and McCree flushed to his neck. Hanzo spun him around, pressed his right cheek to McCree’s left, and left kisses along Jesse’s cheek without taking his lips off his skin.

 

“Ho-honey,” McCree repeated again.

 

Hanzo’s knuckles trailed a soft trail down Jesse’s spine. “Morning is for dancing,” replied Hanzo. The piano picked up the pace a little, as if in response. Hanzo led McCree with spins and light steps, slipping in-between and around Hana’s equipment. And as Hanzo pulled McCree closer to him to prevent McCree from almost running into the couch, he ran a hand through Jesse’s hair, and murmured, “Happy Valentine’s, loveliest.”

 


	3. Midday

Waking up so early meant starting the day early.

 

Athena must have informed Winston that they were both already awake, because they got a message on their tablets asking if they want to start the briefing now and just “get it over with”.

 

“That doesn’t sound like a happy Winston,” McCree said as he pocketed his device. He held his hand out for Hanzo. “Care to join me?”

 

Hanzo gave McCree an amused look and took his hand.  

 

After three big cups of very bitter, very strong coffee and a very boring briefing that lasted way too long in McCree’s opinion, it was already midday. McCree thought about retreating to his bed, but Hanzo headed for the garden and before McCree even finished his thought, he was already following.

 

“Today’s cold, yeah?” Lena said to them as she jogged past the small cliff-side garden. She hopped from one foot to the other, staying warm while stopping to chat.

 

“Yeah, and the wind sure ain’t helping,” McCree puffed out a smoke, at least the cold made the cigarillo taste even better, the spiced smoke warming his chest.

 

“How’s your mint doing?”

 

“Can’t really screw up mint, you know?” McCree crouched down to poke at the green leaves, rubbing it slightly. “Soon enough we could use these to make some ice teas, or cocktails.”

 

Lena hummed in delight, and accepted the small mint leaf McCree gave her. She placed it on her tongue.

 

“Ooh,” she laughed. “Kind of bitter?”

 

“Don’t chew on it!” McCree laughed, turned around to look at Hanzo, who was sitting on the ground, back against some crates. “Look at this girl!”

 

Hanzo smiled, and folded something down in his hands. McCree raised a brow, he almost didn’t hear Lena bidding them goodbye.

 

“What’d you have there, gorgeous?” McCree asked, and Hanzo shook his head.

 

“Nothing of importance,”

 

“Aw, come on…”

 

Hanzo unfolded his hands and revealed a small notebook, because he never really could say no to McCree, even if he always pretend it was his own decision instead of his inability to refuse McCree’s soft voice.

 

McCree didn’t make a move to pick the notebook up, not without Hanzo’s permission.

 

“Writing?” McCree asked.

 

Hanzo flipped his pen between his fingers, McCree noticed it was something Hanzo did when he was thinking. The pen flipped forward and backwards between his fingers, and stopped.

 

“Sketching,” Hanzo answered.

 

McCree smiled, “sketching…?” he trailed off.

 

“You,” Hanzo said. Tapping his pen on the book cover rapidly.

 

McCree blinked.

 

“Oh,” he finally said, shyly. Hanzo chuckled, and poked his partner’s cheek with the covered tip of his pen.

 

“Can I see?” McCree caught Hanzo’s fingers, took off his hat, and placed both on his chest.

 

And that made Hanzo pause – sometimes he wondered if McCree knew how easy it was for him to turn the table on Hanzo. With his comely face, languid voice, and earnest eyes, suddenly Hanzo was the one left flushed. 

 

Hanzo passed the book wordlessly.

 

McCree studied the surface carefully. The cover was plain, felt of cheap material. But it was marred with scraps, like someone dragged their nails through them a lot, and McCree wondered if this was also another of Hanzo’s nervous tic.

 

(He was trying to figure them out – those signs. It was way too easy for both of them to get anxious and Hanzo, despite the austere façade he tried to maintain, worried too much).

 

McCree flipped through the pages, and saw watercolors of birds, pencil drawings of cats and Hanzo’s dragons. McCree didn’t show up until much, much later. Hanzo’s drawings of humans were interesting, erratic lines that melts into the scenery, eerie style that somehow mesmerized McCree.

 

McCree looked through the drawings of him, and noticed that some of them were dated before they were together. Though Hanzo didn’t look a bit shy or embarrassed by having McCree knowing this. McCree resisted the urge to ask for how long Hanzo was secretly drawing him.

 

Then a drawing caught McCree’s eyes, and his breath. He let out a hiss. From the edge of his vision he could see Hanzo’s smile widen.

 

“Ah,” McCree coughed, face burning now. “Ah…I didn’t know you drew…after we…uh…”

 

“Your blissed out face makes a very good subject for drawing.”

 

McCree placed his hat back on his head and pulled the brim down to cover his eyes. His legs were sore from crouching, now he just let himself slump, landing on his ass.

 

He was still clenching the notebook, full of birds and cats and dragons and _McCree_ –

 

Something nudged against his boots. The tips of Hanzo’s metal feet coming into view from the edge of the brim. Hanzo playfully kicked him in the shin, and then stretched out his legs so that they were intertwined with McCree’s.

 

A pen poked through, sliding under his hat and lifting it up. McCree’s gaze met Hanzo’s.

 

McCree let out a content sigh.

 

The freezing ocean winds made Hanzo’s lips chapped and salty – but not at all cold.

 


	4. Evening

The sun was setting before either of them wanted it to. McCree remarked how he hated the early sunset. Hanzo said it wasn’t a big deal even though he secretly agreed.

 

The sun was gone, but the sky remained a dull gray. Dusk blanketed them.

 

McCree didn’t know when they stopped talking and just sat in comfortable silence. His serape around them both, emitting smoky warmth.

 

He could just fall asleep right there, but Hanzo was saying something in his ear, and the words knocked McCree’s sleepiness away.

 

“That ain’t fair of you,” McCree whined softly. “Quoting poetry to a man while he’s unprepared to have an arrow through his heart…”

 

“Do you wish me to stop?”

 

McCree buried his face in the crook of Hanzo’s neck. He smelt like soap and cigarillo. “No.”

 

Above him, Hanzo shifted, leaned against McCree. He continued.

 

“I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

McCree went ahead and started on the shortcake. He wasn’t sure if Hanzo ever had it before. It wasn’t anything special, but he knew Hanzo liked fresh strawberries.

 

Just when he finished cutting the strawberries and putting them in the fridge, he turned around and found Hanzo in the kitchen, looking at the recipe on McCree’s tablet.

 

“Strawberry shortcake?”

 

“Yeah, you had it before?” McCree asked, not really bothered that Hanzo saw what his present was. It was never intended as a surprise, anyway.

 

“I’m guessing it is not like regular strawberry cake?”

 

“Not quite,” McCree got the sifter out, on his way back to the counter he accidently knocked over the bag of flour. “Oops.”

 

Somehow this kind of accident always happens when McCree tried to bake. Cooking? He was like a fish in the water. Baking? Suddenly he was thrown into a pile of mud and not even sure how he got there.

 

“God dammit,” McCree sighed. “I just need the ingredients to cooperate with me today…”

 

“Do you need help?” Hanzo asked.

 

“Nah, just sit tight and relax. It won’t take long.”

 

“I want to help.”

 

McCree’s back was to Hanzo, and he hoped Hanzo couldn’t tell that he has a dopey grin on his face from his words. “Okay. Thanks, cupcake.”

 

“Don’t call me cupcake.”

 

McCree quickly realized how different Hanzo went about baking than he was. Hanzo precisely measured all the ingredients and set them aside first, while McCree just wanted to pour everything straight from it bag and hope he got it right.

 

“Sift it slower, Jesse, or else you won’t get the clumps.” Hanzo said.

 

“This is taking too long,” McCree grumbled, and shook the sifter, thinking it would help the flour pass through quicker. Instead, a clump of flour splashed out from the side and landed on Hanzo’s black sweater.

 

For a moment, Hanzo and McCree just look at it, and Hanzo heaved a sigh out of him.

 

“I knew something like this will probably happen,” he said, trying to pat the flour off.

 

“Sorry, darling,” McCree said sheepishly, now turning the handle of the sifter with extra care.

 

Hanzo didn’t seem to be too bothered by it. If it were some of his more expensive clothes though…

 

There was a soft call from the side, and McCree turned to Hanzo, unsuspectingly.

 

Hanzo met his gaze with a handful of flour. McCree’s smile dropped.

 

“Honey,” he said warningly.

 

“Dearest,” Hanzo answered cloyingly, and it was only because Jesse McCree was the fastest draw in the United States that he managed to close his eyes before the clump of powder hit him straight in the face.

 

It took McCree a few seconds before he decided that it was safe to open his eyes and mouth. He sucked in a huge gulp of air and gawked at a very smug Hanzo.

 

“Hmm,” Hanzo made a satisfactory noise and leaned back onto the counter.

 

“Hanzo…” McCree pouted as Hanzo pat some flour off of his bangs for him.

 

“It is only fair,” Hanzo said, leaning back again. “Now we’re –”

 

Hanzo’s words were cut off as McCree dumped the remaining flour in the sifter onto the archer’s head.

 

Hanzo stood, frozen. Eyes screwed shut and shoulders snapped up.

 

McCree laughed. “ _Now_ we’re even.”

 

There was a pause, one that went on for too long, and McCree started to worry if he went too far.

 

And then Hanzo grabbed the bag of flour.

 

For the next five minutes the kitchen was mixed with shouts, yells, and Athena’s calm voice saying “Agent Hanzo, Agent McCree, _please_ cease before we run out of flour.” By the time Hanzo grabbed McCree and pulled him into a kiss, they both tasted of flour, and that made kissing kind of sticky.

 

But Hanzo didn’t stop, and McCree only pushed into the kiss even more.

 

When Hanzo pulled back, McCree had already opened his eyes, and was staring at Hanzo blankly. Hanzo’s smile dropped.

 

“What is it?” asked Hanzo. McCree snapped out of his haze, and panicked. For a moment he considered giving Hanzo a facile excuse, but he stood, dumbstruck by his thought that temporarily silenced him.

 

“What’s wrong?” Hanzo asked again.

 

“Nothing,” McCree choked. “Gosh darn, darling, nothing whatsoever. I just…”

 

“What?” Hanzo took a step forward and McCree went willingly into Hanzo’s arms.

 

Hanzo’s flour coated hair felt soft and smelled warm under Jesse’s nose, and it very nearly made him cough and tear up. “It’s just…God, this is stupid.”

 

Hanzo said nothing. McCree swallowed before continuing. “When I saw your hair in white, I had the silliest thought…”

 

“What?” Hanzo said again, sounding a little strained this time.

 

“It just makes me, think about _us_ , and us…”

 

Hanzo did not prompt Jesse this time.

 

“About us, being together until our hair turned white, it’s all. Don’t worry about it, it’s just a silly thought.”

 

There was a beat of silence, and then Jesse felt a kiss on his neck.

 

“No,” Hanzo said quietly. “Not silly at all.”

 


	5. Moonrise

They did finish baking, though they both agree to save it for the morning and have an indulgent breakfast in favor of turning in early.

 

The moon was covered by rain clouds when they lay tangled together in bed, moans barely heard over the pit pat of raindrops. Hanzo’s slow, languid thrust and Jesse’s soft grinds was deliberate. They dragged the time out, hoping it would last until the lumps in both their throat were gone.

 

Hanzo placed kisses all over McCree’s body, grabbing any part he could and kneading it. McCree dragged his blunt nails down Hanzo’s tattoo, feeling the pulse underneath.

 

They came with almost muted shout, the sound drowned out by the drone of the rain outside.

 

The moon peaked out finally, even if the rain continued.

 

“Hanzo,” McCree called softly, not sure of the other had dozed off already.

 

Hanzo grunted in lieu of a reply, and pulled out carefully. McCree forgot to tell him he wanted Hanzo to stay inside for a little longer, but decided there would always be a next time.

 

“Did you want to say something,” Hanzo said, half-turned, stretching his muscles. Hanzo’s sinewy back was definitely something McCree could stare at for hours, and his placid smile even more so.

 

“Wanted to say sorry for an uneventful Valentine’s day.” It was, in fact, so uneventful, that McCree only just remembered that was today. This holiday had passed by unnoticed during his run for so many years in a row, it was a task to even remember there was a day for lovers.

 

“Would you say today was uneventful?” McCree’s eyebrows shot up, Hanzo continued, “I find it quite enjoyable, much more than I had planned.”

 

“You planned?”

 

“Well,” Hanzo sighed. “I really just wanted to spend the whole day with you. Which I know sounds mundane.”

 

Hanzo lay down next to McCree, facing him. His hair draped across his forehead, and McCree brushed it back. “But I did not know if you wish to celebrate this holiday or not, and I didn’t want to seem,” Hanzo paused. “Overbearing, to say that we needed to do something special.”

 

McCree’s heart melted, for no reason, or for every reason – he kissed Hanzo’s nose. Once, twice, and then many more times, until Hanzo was laughing.

 

“Today was pretty much perfect,” McCree eventually said.

 

“You think so?”

 

“Yes, definitely. I mean, it _would_ be perfect if we had woken up together – ”

 

Hanzo swatted him in the arm, both of them laughing.

 

“We can wake up together tomorrow,” Hanzo promised.

 

“Yeah,” McCree agreed. “And we can have shortcake for breakfast, making everyone jealous.”

 

“Genji would insist on us sharing.”

 

“We’ll give him the burnt ones.”

 

Hanzo kissed him then, flat and chaste and smiling on the lips. Neither of them deepened it.

 

Hanzo hummed a soft tune, his breath warm on Jesse’s cheek. Hanzo’s music lingered on, with the tapping of rains, with McCree’s breathing, under the pale moonrise.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [How Hanzo flips his pen ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfPFakSwHNo)  
>  Poetry from [One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/49236)  
> by Neruda 
> 
> Just a inspiration to the structure but I thought I mentioned it anyways, Morning for dancing, Midday for Painting, Evening for Poetry and Moonrise for Music  
> [The Arts](http://www.muchafoundation.org/gallery/browse-works/object/241)  
> by Mucha 
> 
> Thank you for reading! You can find me on [Tumblr](http://cibeeeeee.tumblr.com/) and/or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spiciestcibee?lang=zh-tw) !


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